Old Blood Revived
by myOTHERaccount
Summary: Drake is back. And more awesome than ever. If that's possible. King has a day job! Drake/King slash vampires from the movie Blade
1. Chapter 1

Old Blood Revived

Ch. 1

A/N: This will be a short fiction. Well, I hope so anyway. It won't be dragged on. Review!

And another thing, do my stories totally suck? Do I need to rethink my life-long dream? I got nearly zip from my reviews although the reviews I did get were fantastic and totally lifted my spirits! Someone even wrote a story based on one of my stories! It's in the reviews I get for each chapter. It's pretty much assessable to just about anyone. So thank you reviewers yet curse those of you who don't review.

~moa~

It was dark.

As in, complete darkness. It was the kind of light that blocked any and all light from reaching you.

But the darkness was a tricky little monster. It enveloped you in its gentle folds and gave the body a calm perception of things around you. Only those old enough or wise enough could see the danger and evil the dark held. The warmth was a false hope of bliss. It was death, plain and simple.

But Drake, as Danica and his other children had so freely called him, was no stranger to death. Being a vampire was all about death. You were dead and brought death onto others. Except they were allowed the security to stay dead while you were cursed to rise every night as Artemis' soldiers.

Well, that had been the way of life for Drake. Ever since he'd been awakened from his slumber by those pathetic excuses for vampires, he'd seen how much the world had changed. In his time, humans feared the night and slept with a wooden stake underneath the pillow. Now, they craved the night just as any other of his fellow creatures would.

There was no honor in his children anymore. Without his guidance, they'd over populated themselves to an extent to where the blood that flowed so freely through his veins was weak and thin in theirs.

It was ironic that a half vampire was closer to the structure of his original bloodline than those considering themselves of full blood. Blade could walk in the sunlight, was strong, and resisted blood easily. At first glance, he himself could've mistaken him as his first children. One of the few he had hand picked and tested in order to become immortal. It was a true honor to die at his hands.

Well, that was what he had thought. The honor was still there; just the whole truly dead part was missing. He learned this when that warming darkness slowly glowed to a semi-bright land full of cold. It was like walking through the forest where the leaves stole most of the light was stolen and the sun's rays couldn't bring the delightfulness it once did.

Why was he alive?

Slowly, Drake regained consciousness only to see he was lying on the broken floor Blade and himself had fought on. The tiles were still in their shattered, crater-like state around the impact his demonic form had created when Blade had injected the venom. He was no longer like so, but in his human form; clad only in the tattered leather pants he was given and the open vest he had personally requested. The light was coming through special, vampire glass that Danica had briefly explained.

Feeling highly confused, Drake sat up. He did so slowly to test out how many things were broken, while not showing any expressions, only to find that his hunger over ruled all other pains.

Seeing as how blood would help speed up his healing process, Drake got up and walked to the only door that would lead out of the corrupted building he had been housed. He had to step around a few piles of ashes but he got there. He barely even thought about how those piles were his children; they deserved it in his eyes. Focusing on the task at hand, he tried to remember a way to feed that was the most convenient to him.

Danica had supplied him with information on what happened while he slept when he had been initially wakened. A few history books and something called an encyclopedia (which was many volumes long) was the source of such information. And thus, he knew of the perfect place to go.

'Blood bank it is,' Drake smirked and walked outside, real sunlight hitting his skin.

As he walked by every unsuspecting human on the street, he could only think one thing:

'Guess who's back?'

~moa~  
A/N: * giggles * well, that was certainly different. It's still an American production, but now there's vampires! God, I love vampires! They're awesome. Personally, I wanted to kill Stephanie Meyer, but I will live. Angry, but alive non the less.

Review! I need feed back! And constructive criticism on what I totally screwed up on would help!


	2. Chapter 2

Old Blood Revived

Ch. 2

A/N: Well folks, here it is: The second installment to this fiction. Again, any constructive, non-emo-personality-inducing criticism will be taken with honor. Well, kind of, anyway.

"Blah" talking

'Blah' thinking

~moa~

'Sometimes, my life sucks.'

This was the one thought that was going through Hannibal King's head. Currently, he was at his day job. Yes, that wasn't a typo. King had a day job. He was sort of forced to get one because Abby was at headquarters with Zoë all day and they needed money. There was no one else to get the money in for them, so he had to do something.

There was also the threat of the vampire that still roamed the streets. Somehow, the vermin had escaped the effects of the virus and still managed to carry on. Abby's theory was that blood lines had diminished so much that Drake wasn't really a big factor in their genetic make up.

So, while this meant that all the vampires still around were totally wuss bags, they still had to hunt them. (And really, they didn't even have any help anymore. Blade had just decided to ride heroically into the sunset while they were given the job of clean up crew.)

So, since the wuss bags probably wouldn't be that smart, they were going to do the whole "solo" thing and just try to get blood on their own without doing anything that would land them in jail for murder.

So, King used the brain his mama gave him and killed two birds with one stone: he was going to work at a blood bank. He was paid decently and vampires would flock there in order to stay alive.

Well, about as close to alive as the dead can get.

One of the minor downsides was the uniform. Well, not really a "minor" downside, per say. More like, the reason Hannibal was probably going to be therapy in the near future. King downright, honest-to-God, HATED that uniform. They might as well given him a giant, cardboard sign that stated in large, curly letters "World, I'm gay!"

He had to wear white slacks, white shoes, white socks, and a tight pink polo. **PINK!** And just to be extra funny, they gave him a paper hat with a red cross on it.

'Damn, stupid Red Cross assholes!'

(Sure, shouting it in your head doesn't really count, but it can make you feel a lot better.)

They even gave him a mandatory line to say to each customer. So while he was speaking in the cheeriest tone he could dignify himself to be at, people would come in and try their hardest not to laugh their asses off or call him ludicrous names.

Well, there always are those few people who don't, but the customer is ALWAYS right.

So when he heard the tell-tail sound of the bell above the door jingle, he had already slipped on the smile and closed his eyes; all the while praying it wasn't someone who knew him.

"Hello, welcome to the Red Cross Blood Bank. Are you here to give blood?" He really hoped the person in front of him was the aforementioned group of vampires. A need to vent was strong.

"Actually, I'm going to be receiving it," King opened his eyes in a flash and took an involuntary step backwards. It wasn't possible.

"How did…you shouldn't be…" King trailed off, not being able to complete a coherent thought. All the years he had personally trained himself didn't prepare him for what he saw.

There, in all his glory, stood Drake.

He had that confident, cocky smile on his face like from the first time King met him. His eyes were practically glowing that eerie yellow color. The vampire's clothing was shredded, but gave off the look that it was meant to be that way. But, for some reason, he was barefooted.

"Ah, you're the hunter who was Danica's pet. It's good to see you again," Drake walked forward, acting as though they were college buddies and not people who had previously tried to kill each other.

"But how?…" again, King trailed off. But then, the reality of the situation popped in like an old, bitching girlfriend and slapped him across the face. He pulled out the gun from under the counter, and held it in line with Drake's heart. The safety was off, but the silencer was on.

One shot was fired and missed because milliseconds later, Drake had thrown it across the room. A moment later, and King was tossed in the same direction in a similar matter.

Upon impact, King's head imitated a basketball and bounced off the surface of the wall. The hit made him forget (for a few, blissful seconds) where he was and what he was doing. But then, a hand grasped his polo collar and he was lifted in to the air about a foot off the ground.

He tried to pry the appendage off with both of his hands, but to no avail. The air in his lungs slowly escaped his body and King began to see spots dance across his vision.

When he was just about to slip unconscious, his neck was released. He slid down the wall to the floor and took in air abundantly. Lying on his side, he slowly blinked his eyes. Drake had left him alone and was currently breaking into the freezer where all the blood was kept. The freezer was a giant, refrigerated room that resembled a fast food joint's freezer, but had a state-of-the-art security system.

'And Drake just broke it,' King sat up and grabbed his gun that was beside him. He aimed for Drake's chest and fired twice. They both hit home and Drake tumbled forward into the freezer, sufficiently hiding his body.

King slowly stood up, his aching body telling him to please do otherwise. But king was known for never really following orders. He stood outside the freezer door to the right side of the opening with his back against the wall. He held the gun straight up in the air; similar to the way they held it in cop shows. He turned into the doorway and held the gun out where it was level with his eyes. He scanned the room and looked to see where Drake was.

Well, it wasn't in there apparently. Neither was any blood, or any other indication that the king of vampires had even been there. On a closer observation, King noted that none of the blood vials had been disturbed either.

'This is usually where the creepy theme music would pop in.' King lowered his weapon and scratched the back of his head idly. He hadn't just imagined a battle with his archenemy, had he?

With one last skim over the room, King turned around. He stepped outside the room and turned around. He lowered his gun to the floor so he wouldn't have to hold it between his legs in that awkward position so he could shut the door back. But as he touched the chrome surface of the door, a clank came from the other side of the room.

Next to the wall, on the other side of the room, sat his gun, spinning in a slow circle. But wasn't it next to him? That had to mean someone kicked it over there. Before King had a chance to evaluate what the hell just happened, an arm wrapped around his neck and his back was trapped gainst a very fit body.

"That hurt," Drake whispered in his ear. He said such in an amused tone of voice. The fact someone who wasn't a prophecy had inflicted pain upon him was probably the biggest punch line of his life.

'Yep, my life _really_ sucks,' King thought, before being knocked out, picked up, and thrown over the shoulder of his captor. Drake walked out of the blood bank and jumped onto a nearby building's rooftop. He jumped off of it onto another, looking for a resting place for the night.

~moa~


	3. Chapter 3

Old Blood Revived

Ch. 3

A/N: Heh, this is the next chapter in this epic tail. Hopefully, this fic really will end in a few chapters. And about Guardian Gene, I'm either going to delete it or rewrite it. I get these amazing flashes of good fan fiction, but the plot and chapters I try to write to get to that point SUCK! It has also come to my attention that Drake, being the egoistic person he is, would probably not go to a blood bank just to get a meal. Yeah well, he was tired and hurt and I'm pretty sure that he'd think a lot of these things through. Plus, it's a major plot point. So please review. I'll bake you brownies! And thank you, those who did review! ^-^

moa~

When King was brought back to the wonderful world of waking, it was to a weird whooshing in both of his ears. He opened his eyes and was met with leather. At first he was confused, not really quite remembering. But then the head splitting migraine brought all of it back.

King had fucked up.

King had fucked up _bad._

So, what does one do when being carried by the father of vampires with all the dignified grace of a sack of potatoes?

Observe:

King placed his hands on the smalls of Drake's back and pushed off, bringing his legs into the air in a backwards somersault. But to his dismay, doing that got him into a back flop onto the concrete roof of the building. He grunted but quickly turned himself over. He stood up and noticed that Drake was now on the other building that he had been jumping across to, staring at him. He was amused, King saw, and that kind of pissed King off.

"For someone who is supposed to be a human, you're quite strong," Drake said, stepping off the building and seemingly gliding over to the where king was (when he really knew it was a trick the blood suckers knew to just move fast as hell), only a few yards away.

"Yeah, well, I had a little free time between being Danica's bitch and playing with my Easy Bake Oven," King sarcastically threw this in, backing away and checking the area for escape routes. He then looked back at Drake and almost laughed at the look on his face.

Drake had one eyebrow raised, an incredulous look adorning his face. The old styled vampire probably wasn't up to par with half of the things that had been invented in the past century or more. But the look was quickly washed away from his face as Drake stepped forward, advancing on King. The all too familiar smirk was once again in place on his face while he backed King up to a ledge of the building. King glanced over his shoulder and noticed, to his immense displeasure, it was right next to a busy street.

"So," King stalled looking instead to Drake, trying to find a weak point in his defense, "the weather we've been having; weird, huh?"

At this, Drake chuckled, the deep rolling one that went all the way through you and sent shivers in its wake. He stepped closer to King, getting only a few inches away. Drake was only an inch or so taller than King, but it was still evident. Drake's eyes flashed their yellow color and Drake leaned closer seemingly sniffing the air around King's neck.

King did the only thing he could think of in a situation like that: he kicked Drake in the groin. While it was basically ineffective and only got him to back off an inch or so, it was enough to let King slip by. He ran across the roof and jumped onto a fire escape, skipping over the steps and just using the landings. When he reached the bottom, he ran off to get out of the ally his escape had brought him to, but was stopped by a strong grip on his shoulder.

"That wasn't very nice, eh?" Drake whispered in King's ear, pulling him deeper into the shadows. King's back was pressed against his back to feel the wrought iron muscles bulging from under his clothing. As King was getting ready to open his mouth in retort, a palm was pressed against his lips, effectively cutting him off. "You won't need to speak for this."

King then began the normal human reaction and futility began to struggle against the restraint. Drake chuckled darkly again – this time against his neck – while King did so. The other hand snaked around Kings waist and pulled him close to him in an almost gentle manner. King then felt the pointed prick of fangs graze his skin. He froze at the familiar feeling. It brought back memories of the hell he went through when he was turned. The torture of either being bleed or starved nearly to death only to have some human child thrown at him to see how long he lasted before he killed the innocent for their amusement was brought back to life in that one small movement. He started shaking uncontrollably as his heartbeat escalated to an amazing speed.

He whimpered as Drake pressed into his skin harder and broke the surface, drawing blood before licking it all away like a stranded man in the desert. But it seemed that the small noise caused Drake to stop and pull back, stopping his assault. He let go of the man and walked around him to where they were facing each other. King was too wrapped up in his past to notice he was released and shut his eyes closed tightly. The once proud and sardonic hunter was reduced to a pile of quivering mush.

Drake grabbed King's chin and tilted it up. Performing the motion, King opened his eyes and stared straight into Drake's. They were no longer that vibrant yellow and were now a soft blue. Drake cocked his head to the side as though he was confused.

"What have they done to you?" Drake softly asked, as though not really registering he had spoken out loud. The grip on his chin was eased up and the thumb of the hand started to stroke King's cheek softly. They stood like that a few moments longer before King left his fear and noticed to situation.

'Oh my gosh,' King thought, nearly blushing, 'the whole dating men comment was just a joke,' King gulped, gathered as much energy as he had left, and bolted out of the embrace to ally opening. He wasn't stopped and he just kept running, seeing familiar road signs and landmarks so he could get to the hunter hide out.

It wasn't until he had successfully run into the premises and slammed his bedroom door behind him that he allowed himself to calm down. He knew he was blushing like a schoolgirl and bleeding enough to let even the most novice vampire find their base of operations. So he cleaned his heck and stuck a bandage on it before sitting on the edge of his bed and putting his head in his hands while rubbing his temples tiredly.

Well, he'd have an ass load of work to do in the morning, but King was going to bed NOW!

So he stripped of his horrendous uniform of pink and white and slipped into the warm covers of his comforter.

Meanwhile…

Drake stood in the same ally staring at the spot King had once stood at. The human had mesmerized him in his stare, making him look frightened and innocent when his attitude usually revoked the idea completely. He was amusing, that human, and Drake was in the mood for some entertainment. But first…

A drunk stumbled into the ally, taking a few steps before blowing chunks on the pavement. He steered away before crumpling in on himself and hitting his head on the black top. He was unconscious and an easy pray, not noticing Drake. So the father of vampires stepped over to the man and lifted him by his collar before biting harshly into his neck. The man briefly woke up and struggled as Drake drank an abundant amount of blood making the human go weak and lifeless in his arms.

Drake snapped his neck and left him in the ally before walking down the street and looking in the direction King had run off to. He could smell the blood he had pulled out and followed it, smirk in place.

Drake wasn't likely to do the same thing twice.

moa~

A/N: So yeah. King is having some major out of character issues, but this is all being wrote free hand on my computer. Giving me feed back and suggestions on what to do next would be really appreciative.


	4. Chapter 4

Old Blood Revived

Ch. 4

A/N: Yeah, chapter four. I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've had a lot of state testing to do. That, and my town had a black out. A few people have reviewed asking if I'm still alive. All I can say is, I wish I wasn't. 'Cause then I could be a vampire! I'm pretty sure this isn't that good, but those that reviewed, THANK YOU! I really loved it! :~)

moa~

Waking up the day after for King was slow going. His head was hurting, his eyes felt dry and his pillow was wet. What woke him up though, was the clanging of pots in the general direction of the kitchen in the small apartment housing headquarters.

With a tired sigh, King sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing his neck to get the kinks out. Standing up, he stretched until he heard his back pop and went to take a shower in the bathroom down the hall. He opened the door, shuffled inside and clicked on the light. In the mirror staring back at him was a reflection of utter sadness.

Blood shot eyes, puffy red bags, and a pale face. He almost looked sick. Checking his forehead for a temperature, he was relived to know he at least didn't have a fever. What had happened the night before hadn't escaped him, he merely hadn't thought it'd affect him so.

Sighing again, he undressed and got into the shower, turning it to a temperature that was a few degrees lower than warm. He sat there and washed his hair and body before stopping the water flow and stepping out. He grabbed a towel from a side closet and used it to dry himself before wrapping it around his lower torso.

He walked back to his room a bit more awake and went inside. He threw his towel in the general direction of his clothes hamper (enforced by Abby) and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a gray muscle shirt and some boxers as well as blue jeans shorts cut off at his knees and swiftly put them on, the crisp air contradicting with his semi-warm skin. Walking over to his unmade bed, he lay down on it, his feet hanging off. He sighed (something he seemed to be doing a lot), and closed his eyes, trying to find comfort in the simple pleasure of complete laziness.

He rolled over onto his side and stayed there. Suddenly, the sun seemed to come out of its cover behind the rest of the buildings surrounding theirs and streamed in through the window. The curtains were pulled back so the light was directly hitting his skin.

Feeling like a cat sun bathing, King smiled softly before again sitting up and leaning against the window's glass. The tempting smell of breakfast, pancakes apparently, drifted under his door and filled his room. King could almost say he was in paradise. But, he was going to have to leave it. He had to be on his guard, not lounging around. The frigging Father of all Vampires had just found him yesterday and he'd left a trail to his apartment. Which reminded him…

'Crap,' King thought, scrunching his eyebrows together, 'I am in so much trouble for the blood bank thing. Well, at least I gave them a false I.D. and address.'

Yep, there's always a bright side to being paranoid.

"Hey King, breakfast is ready," Abby said, standing in the now open doorway. She held a spatula in one hand and a book in the other. She was smiling softly at him when she turned around to go back to the kitchen and help little Zoë eat her pancakes.

King, eyes now open, stood up and walked to the kitchen. Sitting at the table was Zoë with a plate full of two pancakes and syrup. Chuckling, King went to sit next to her where another plate sat. Assuming it was his, King put a little butter and maple syrup on his before cutting a small piece off and shoveling it into his mouth. When he swallowed, he again laughed and put his hand on her head, effectively messing up he once straight hair.

"Kid, you gonna have any pancake with that syrup?" he commented, before putting another piece in his mouth.

"Meanie face," Zoë declared, sticking her tongue out while trying to put her hair the way it was before the disarray, "It's my pancakes!"

"Yeah, well, I eat kids like you for breakfast," he got out before leaping out of his chair, picking her up and swinging her around in the air. She giggled and he pretended to chew on her stomach, effectively tickling her.

"All right you two, that's enough. King, put Zoë down," Abby called from the stove, only looking once in their direction before turning back to the task at hand.

Looking at each other and seemingly thinking the exact same thoughts, King put Zoë down before they both broke out into smiles and said at the exact same time:

"Yes Mom!"

Rolling her eyes, Abby continued cooking. Sitting down, King and Zoë continued eating. But identical smirks were on their faces. Oh, King had trained her well.

Eventually, Abby came over to sit and eat with them. The trio almost looked like the typical family enjoying the start to a new day. But, it did not last for long.

After a while, Abby left to go work at a fast food restaurant, taking Zoë with her to the day care center, leaving King all alone in the apartment, Drake momentarily forgotten.

The sun was gone, so no basking, there was nothing on TV, and King didn't really feel like going outside at the moment. So, King did what all Americans are known and criticized for: he went back to bed. He was going to need a new job tomorrow, which he had reluctantly told Abby, and he was trying to save every ounce of power he had for that.

Well, not really, but it sounded like a pretty good excuse.

So laying in the still messy bed without the covers on, King slowly began to doze off, not really asleep, but not really awake. He was aware of some things, but not others. Like, he couldn't see (eyes were closed), smell, or hear, but he could touch and smell. For instance, he felt his now warmed up comforter and he could smell his dirty laundry in the corner, right next to the smell of a manly musk sort of like spray like Axe.

Wait…

What?

Bolting up, now completely awake, King managed to let out a startled yelp before being pressed hard against the mattress by a very muscled arm across his throat. Raising his hands to try and get the damned thing to back the fuck off, King had a random moment of Déjà vu, remembering when Drake had him pinned at the blood bank, as he was doing now.

Shit.

It just wasn't his week.

Scratch that, his whole life had been crap.

Raising his head, King was met with the same yellow eyes he had the night before. Although, they weren't as hungry as then, they were still holding that "I'm going to enjoy killing you" look every vampire seemed to have.

Well, used to have. They were all basically dead at that moment.

Except for the one who really needed to die.

So, King was still gasping for air, face going a little blue, when the pressure let up. Not enough to let him go, but at least he could breathe again.

At this point, King noticed that Drake was looking at him in a different manner. No longer jesting, but inquisitive. Questioning. Then, he seemed to snap back and remember what he was doing. He held King down a moment longer, then slowly got off of him completely.

And got a face full of fist for his trouble.

"You bastard. First the beat the living shit out of me. Then, you go and trash my work. Next, you kidnap me. Now, you've bust into my home and tried to beat me up again. You, my friend," at this, King popped his neck, "are the gutsiest vampire I've ever met."

"It is, how you say, what I do," Drake chuckled, stepping back from the visible amount of light coming from the window. While it didn't hurt him to be there, it sure as hell made him look creepier in the shadows.

"And this is what I do," King reached under his pillow to pull out his gun and only got sheets instead. Crap, he'd forgotten he'd lost it in the fight. And he voiced these thoughts to his enemy.

"Yes, well, however unfortunate that may be, I do believe I have some unfinished business with you," Drake strode forward, coming out of the shadows like some bat out of hell. He continued his stride forward until he came to be at King's side, just looking down at him. He then placed his hand on King's shoulder and squeezed. It would have been an almost comforting gesture, had he not then flipped King off the bed and onto the floor.

Landing with a loud thud, King had the air knocked out of him, giving Drake enough time to sit on him and efficiently pin both of his arms down. King couldn't lift his legs either because Drake had knees on the outside of King's thighs and his feet where between King's knees.

Again, crap.

"Seems like you're trapped hunter. What are you to do now?" Drake essentially purred this into King's ear, tone triumphant. With a last futile struggle, King rested on the floor and tried to go over his options.

Struggling didn't work and probably never would. So that was immediately chucked out the window.

Abby wouldn't be back until her shift was over at six that night and it was currently, King glanced at the clock, ten fourteen. So back up wasn't coming either.

So, going back over everything he was ever taught by his parents, friends, Blade, even the damn vampires, King searched for a way out. The only thing that came to mind was something that was very risky: a distraction.

But what could possibly distract the fucking King of all Vampires?

So, King went back over his mental files, and a few movies and found the only way he was ever going to be able to see another day.

Raising his head so he was looking straight into Drake's yellow depths, King leaned forward and kissed Drake on the lips.

tbc

A/N: Yeah, I'm that evil.

But seriously, I need some feed back. Being asked if I'm still alive doesn't count. Was it good, are you dreading the next chapter, what?

Also, who wants a Phantom of the Opera slash fic? I really want to do one.


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